Each note I spare is a thought for you
by A city that never sleeps
Summary: AU. Cloud x Zack. This AU takes place as Zack and Cloud as teenagers attending the same school. As Cloud lives off disjointedly from the rest for two years, still caught in Aerith's death, a new boy arrives and tries to pull him back up.


**A/N: So I'd just like to say, although Cloud is Crisis Core-ish age, I'm mostly making him Advent Children-ish. That make sense? Anyways, I wanted to put this up and see what you would think? Please review! **

Cloud shifted in his bed, his head lolling to the side as he was assaulted once more with past memories – a past he would have much preferred to have forgotten. Every single drop of blood had haunted his mind, had never truly left his side completely. He could see them still, could still envision it trailing off his own arm as he had held to her dearly – had tried with all his might to hold on to her for a while longer.

It had been of no use.

Now his eyes opened slowly, instinctively tugging him to his wake mere minutes before his alarm went off. He brought an arm to the side and turned it off, sliding off to the side of his bed as he seated himself upright. He scooted to the very edge of the bed as he held his head in his hands.

It had been two years now – two awfully long years.

The tears did not run down his cheek, he hadn't cried since that day. He had refused to submit himself to that last stage of weakness. His nails nearly bit into his skin as he unconsciously tried to tear through his frail layer of skin, he almost wanted to rip it all off.

With a sigh, he was reminded of the sweetness in her voice, of the very shade of her emerald eyes. In the end he had lost himself to those memories, had lived by them in an attempt to shut off his surroundings. He felt her at every corner, felt her touch grace his shoulders, lingering for a moment as he stared off in the distance. He missed her beyond any doubt.

Lifting his head through his hands, he gazed between his fingers at the pots of flowers that encased him. He had taken everything he could – every last memory of Aerith. In a part of his delusional mind, he would make himself believe that a part of her soul still lived through these plants, the ones she had given her soul to watch blossom. It was a comforting thought in the least, to believe she wasn't truly gone.

He finally brought himself to leave the comfort of his bed as he pieced his thoughts together and tried to regain an ounce of sanity. Those times were behind him and now he would have to leave the safety of the flowers that bloomed in his home to go to the most insufferable area imaginable – high school.

Not that he minded the "bullies" or such. He ignored them; in fact they were but blurry images in his mind as he passed through the corridors. He only couldn't stand their shenanigans, the childishness that persisted in the air as they tried to affirm themselves as adults in the world when in fact they were but newly born lambs.

He grasped mindlessly for a pair of slacks, dragging them on through gritted teeth. His chest was still bare as he had made it a habit to sleep in only a pair of boxers. He glanced up at a mirror that was hung to his wall a minute, taking in himself. He had grown so gaunt and lean in those two years where he had dawdled in nothing but reminiscence. His hand ran through his chest, tracing at what had once been pronounced muscle lines. He stared into the pain wrought eyes that seemed to reflect emptiness.

It should disgust him to see himself so deteriorated. Somehow he couldn't even bring himself to.

He ran a hair through those normal dishevelled morning locks – he could at the very least be presentable on the anniversary of her death.

Sheepishly, he dragged his feet as he clasped a comb in between his hands and tried to smooth out the creases through his hair that had earned him a rather notorious nickname – Chocobo – and which he ignored for the most part. Settling himself with the best he could do, he finally pulled on a loose black t-shirt, which didn't smooth his shape as well as it once had. He chose to ignore this comment that had been from the back of his head as he grasped a leather jacket that he donned hastily.

He had been somewhat attached to this leather jacket of his – on its left pocket was attached something as a knocker in the shape of a wolf. The glint of metal had caught his eye and the form had attracted him to no end, he hadn't hesitating in buying this particular piece. It had been very special to him over the years.

He gladly skipped breakfast as his stomach hardly had what it took to hold in whatever he could wolf down. His throat was wrenched and restricted, and in his mind only desolation persevered. He hardly felt present to the world at all, he felt a dread draped over his shoulders that would not leave him, not for a single second, and that amplified by the events that had taken place on this very day, two years ago.

Somehow, he wanted to forget. Somehow, he would rather lose his life than ever forget the gentle curve of her lips when she smiled so brightly at them, instantly instilling them with hope.

Making his way down the stairwell he picked up the set of keys that were waiting patiently for him. He took one last look at the house that belonged to him but was of so poor nature. In his heart this was where his last memories of Aerith and where his music came to life. It meant far more than he could put to words. To another it was hardly a cosy place and rather restricted.

Opening the door a notch, he finally tore his gaze away from his surroundings. It was another day to face, far worse given the current circumstances but he would have to hold his head high. The door made a slight noise as he shut it firmly, flicking the key in the hole briefly as he walked down the stone steps.

Fenrir waited by his side. He felt a certain relief to see his motorcycle. Apart from his house, everything seemed so unfamiliar to him, simply because he refused to accept anything else into his life. He would see past them and only retain the sounds that were made from behinds, gentle sounds that no one caught up on, but for his ear subconsciously waited patiently to memorize. It was something that he had been attached to for as long as he could remember.

He settled himself down on the leather seat, recognizing the comfort that he felt at the touch, as he donned his leather gloves as well, before they gripped the handles. He took one steady breath – one last breath of regret as he focused on making his way through the day. They key found itself into the engine, it was turned and the engine began to roar anxiously. This was also a sound which he matched his heartbeat – what was languid had begun to soar, as the rev kicked off and he was rippling through the air, gaining speed. He rushed through the streets, never dropping his hand from the speed controller. It was a feeling that made him feel alive, made him more aware of his fate.

He could choose to let go, he could choose to fall over. It was that simple.

He chose not to.

Soon he had arrived in front of the large brick building. It inspired no feelings of comfort, familiarity or such. It was simply a building as any other, only he was forced to sit through mindless talks of which he would find of no use whatsoever.

The general cries and chatter filled the ears of the small blond that had released the motorcycle, attaching it carefully to the side, before tearing his gaze away from his beloved engine and making his ways towards the steps of the school. It was a morose walk, his sapphire eyes barely taking in the smiles and laughter sounds that pounded through his mind, which he tried with all his might to block out. He needed to concentrate on the little things – on the gentle patter of the drizzle of the rain which had just begun. He wished it was only thing he could hear, that it could enter his mind and wash away all the uncertainties that lay hidden behind his solid face.

There, an opening. He steered through, slinging his bag over his shoulder as he edged nearer in the hallways. His pace was slightly quickened but sure – it did not show fear as he nearly brushed against the stocky figures that were barring his path. He pushed through them carelessly, not baring the thought of sparing any amount of time on those worthless beings. He could hear the anger rouse in their voices and their fingers to begin to tug on his beloved jacket.

Not the jacket. Not the fucking jacket.

Cloud turned around abruptly, his normally stoic face now contorted into a face that reverted wrath of the worst kind – he would take them down limb by limb if they dared to scathe the jacket that held his symbol of honour. He could see their taunting figures, the smirks that lined their faces as they realised they had struck a point that would make the "Chocobo" be of some entertainment. They were lit up in excitement as the leader evenly shook his fist in front of Strife's face, engaging him to combat.

Cloud snorted, baring his teeth as he too wrung out his fist, only in the back of his mind he cursed the cowards they were. He simply needed to reach out and the leader would be on the floor in no time, rolling around in agony. It was a very tempting thought.

Before he could act on his thoughts however, a figure moved through the doorway that was open and waiting for them patiently, only Cloud knew that no teachers would have ever bothered to break up a fight. They were too pathetic and too meaningless to.

No this figure was someone different. She leaned against the wooden door, shooting a concerned glance his way as she recognized the warning signs of his anger beginning to rise. The muscles that remained were tense and any movement the other made would send him hurling forward. She moved forward hesitantly, her dark-haired locks falling before her eyes as her gentle smile and gentle touch reached him.

The familiarity and the kindness of her touch soothed him slightly but it was not enough to calm the adrenaline that was beginning to rush through his veins.

"Let's go now, Cloud." Her eyes flickered towards the mass of boys in front of her, daring them to take on a girl. Cloud knew that she could have them in a writhing pile on the floor in less than two.

Cloud snorted again, shooting another glance before following. Tifa had been a childhood friend of his but lately he hadn't spent as much as time as he would have – he had retreated into a corner in which he hoped no one would go searching for him. Tifa tried many times, but generally she left him in his surliness.

They entered wordlessly, Cloud barely whispering a thank you because he knew if she hadn't intervened there would have been trouble with which he had no desire to deal with. Tifa smile slightly and nodded before waiting from him to retreat to his corner. Somehow she had been wishing for something more – she didn't know how she could still be wishing after all this time.

He seated himself at the second row in the room – not in the teacher's direct range, nor on his mischief back radar. Cloud didn't even know why he dealt with something as mundane as classes. It was foolish and frivolous to think that he could be anything without studies – those were children's thoughts, those who expected life to be as easy as it came. Cloud was above thoughts as such, but he still nursed in his heart a deep will to contribute to the world with his music.

Then again that dream would get him nowhere – and that didn't excuse him from school. Even though he knew most of what they were doing.

He couldn't stand all the mindless bickering between the teenagers that were behind him, habitually steering clear of the spot that he had longed claimed as his own. Of course no one would try to approach him – Cloud had been careful in putting up the necessary guards and displaying to which boundaries they were not to trespass. He had made it widely known that he was unattainable – even though some persisted. Tifa had been amongst those; only she didn't have much of a choice as she had been with him for as long as she could remember. She could remember when Cloud had been a child like any other and could smile freely. Nowadays the simple thought of Cloud smiling was laughable.

He didn't need anyone to fill in the emptiness, as far as he was concerned. The seclusion was willed for.

Carefully picking up his notebook, he glanced up at the teacher, waiting for the moment that he would put on his winning expression that made the teachers believe he were deeply immersed and interested in what they had to say. Although, no matter how much his mind wandered, no matter how many times he left the land to soar through the skies, he still managed to reach the ground on time and answer correctly.

_Clonk._

A sound started the delicate silence in which cloud had huddled himself in, withdrawing into his very core to only be present by body. That sound broke the balance and had him hurling abruptly back into the classroom in which he was seated.

Gnashing his teeth, ocean hues narrowed and rose to bore into the ones of the poor frail being who dared to unsettle his peace.

"Hey! Mind if I sit here?"

Without waiting for an answer, the raven haired teen slid into the chair where Cloud's bag had been placed, carefully casting it away.

Unaware of it, Cloud's eyes soothed as he took in the sight of an uncontestably handsome wondrous man that he had never seen before. His pale skin complex was broken into several taints that perplexed Cloud. On a cheek, a scar remained etched there. His shoulders were broad and Cloud could detect a strength that lay in his muscles, as the white shirt he worse covered the delicate patterns that engraved his chest. His face was contorted into a gentle friendly smile – he clearly meant no wrong. It was a smile that reached to his eyes which were very bright and startled him. It reminded him of the sky – the sky in which he flew once he was catapulted into his own world.

He wanted to protest, grunt, grown, send him away. The innocence in his smile and how content and sincere the teen was, the slight rise of his chest as he seemed to pick up in eagerness, reminded Cloud of a puppy.

… Puppies were harmless, right?

Cloud's annoyed expression, his scowl became more pronounced as his eyes drew back and only the deep green that was huddled there was deciphered, he felt the rage pounding by those restricted orbs but the anger was siphoned off almost immediately.

"… Okay."

The other boy grinned at him, clearly thinking that he had established a friendly relationship here as he opened his mouth, dragging him out of his shell. Cloud bit down on his tongue, wounding down his bitterness as he tried to return to his unattainable piece of land.

"The name's Zack by the way," Zack chirped in a cheerful manner. Cloud was reminded of a dog waging his tail in the hope of attention.

"Cloud." He grunted as he decided to pretend to pay attention to the class instead, mumbling indistinctively to keep the other distracted.

"That's a funny name," Zack chuckled. Cloud stiffened – there it was, the unusualness that Cloud had not detected straight away. It was about to break. He, too, would succumb into the inevitable taunting.

"Yeah?" He spat out.

Zack, who wasn't taken about by the mounting of tension in between them as it was almost palpable, merely smiled at him. "Yeah, it kinda makes me think you're special."

Who the hell was this guy kidding?

The back of Cloud's knuckles whitened as he approached the table, his face paling rapidly, which was saying something given to his natural pale taint, as he seemed to be hauled into a phase of losing control. He was being drawn into painful memories, memories that emerged at any given moment when his emotions took over.

He couldn't think of those now, _wouldn't _think of it. His body tensed as he turned his head to the side.

He wanted to sigh, he wanted to escape. His emotions were being amplified whilst he lay wrapped up in his mourn.

How he mourned for a simple touch on his shoulder, just one echo of that beautiful laugh…

"I just moved in, if you're wondering where I'm from – Gongaga." He grinned. Did Zack have no tact whatsoever?

Gongaga… That struck his curiosity… So he wasn't the only country boy. Not that that mattered.

Cloud ran a hand through his slickened hair, before releasing a breath that had calmed down, unsure why he was revealing himself. It seemed only natural in the presence of the man – maybe that was why he hadn't thought of him as a threat in the beginning. It almost seemed as if he could trust him with his life.

Cloud was most likely high up in his little rainbow world.

"Nibelheim. And I don't advise you to go shouting around that you're country."

There was no threat in his words – clearly he was warning the raven haired boy for his own good.

Zack shrugged, waggling eyebrows slowly as his bright smile never left his lips.

"Let them say what they want." He laughed soundlessly.

Cloud was a bit put off but he didn't show it. He was getting irked by this Zack by the moment – he had intruded in his world, he had managed to make him talk, he had toyed with his emotions unintentionally and Cloud really didn't want to deal with it.

"Strife. Fair. Pay attention." The teacher leered at them.

There. That was what he needed. An excuse. Maybe Zack would stop talking if Cloud ignored him.

And so he did. And so they fell into silence, although he felt Zack shooting glances every once in a while his way, but said no word.

Cloud hadn't paid attention to the skims sent his way, and the frowns he had received. So someone had sat with him? It wouldn't last long – Zack would soon move on.

When the bell rung, Cloud lifted himself off his seat begrudgingly. He had actually paid attention to class this time, feeling too at unease to skive off into his world… a world where Aerith was still alive. Shifting on the balls of his feet, he retrieved his bag, ignoring the shuffling figure next to him.

"Hye, Cloud?"

No. Shut up. Don't, don't, don't - !

"Mind showing me around?"

He froze. He wouldn't back down, not from a direct request, he knew he wouldn't, but he was angered to be tricked in this manner.

With a stiff nod, Cloud began to move forward, swiftly making his way through the crowds of people who were dragging along. He let the beat of his heart settle to the movement, let it slow…

"Cloud, wait up."


End file.
